


New Sparkle

by drikstreedur



Series: Gold and Gunpowder [9]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Fake AH Crew, I got the idea in a Discord chat, M/M, implied mavin, more tooth-rotting cuteness at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 09:34:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13567797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drikstreedur/pseuds/drikstreedur
Summary: In which Gavin takes up a new hobby





	New Sparkle

Everyone in the Fakes had at least one hobby. Geoff raised chickens, Jack was amazing at growing plants and doing interior decor, Ryan knitted, crocheted, and did cross-stitching, Michael whittled wood and sculpted things out of clay, Jeremy was a hell of a musician… And Gavin was amazing with a camera. Not to say that his hobby wasn’t wonderful, and that he wasn’t good at what he did, but he was just getting bored with it. It felt like he’d taken all the photos and gotten footage of all the things worth capturing on film in Los Santos. Sunrises, sunsets, night skies, the golden sunlight falling in just the right way, birds in the trees, fish in the water… It was all so  _ plain _ .

“Jeremy, where do you get inspiration for your music?” Gavin asked one day, fiddling with his cell phone and lying upside-down on the couch next to Jeremy. Jeremy furrowed his brows and looked down at Gavin.

“Dealing with art block, buddy?” Jeremy asked in response, and got a slight nod from Gavin. “I mean, nobody gets inspired by the same things. I get inspiration for lyrics from some of the shit that happens here in the penthouse, and sometimes what we see and do out on a mission or a heist. Hell, you and Ryan inspired me to write a love song!”

_ “Me and Ryan what now?” _

“Uhh, nevermind. I never said anything. Point is that you need to find things that inspire you. Hell, don’t be afraid to stage photos and stuff instead of trying to find the ‘absolute perfect shot’ or something. You’ll never get anywhere just waiting for the perfect idea to strike.”

“I never thought of that. So spontaneity is key then?”

“Yeah pretty much. It sounds like bullshit but trust me, when the urge strikes, do something. You could even figure out something else to do if you’re burned out on photography.”

Gavin was silent for a moment, and then flopped his legs sideways away from Jeremy and sat up with a bright grin, as if he’d had an idea out of the blue. He hugged Jeremy tight in thanks.

“Thanks, Lil J! I’m gonna go off and figure out some spontaneous art I can do!”

Jeremy was left confused, yet somewhat proud, as Gavin scampered into his room, and then out of the penthouse to who-knows-where.

Later, Gavin came home with a tall wheeled toolbox with a handle, four different kinds of water pistols, at least thirty different colors of spray paint, water balloons, a large amount of paintbrushes, and another thirty different colors of craft paints. He made no attempt to explain himself, immediately setting to work instead on loading the toolbox and organizing his new supplies. Ryan came sauntering out of wherever he’d been lazing about and napping, and immediately paused and looked at Gavin in confusion.

“Gavin. What in fresh hell are you doing with all that goddamn paint?” he asked with a yawn, stretching and rubbing his eyes. Gavin didn’t look up at him though, too absorbed in his motions to do so.

“Jeremy gave me a bloody brilliant idea, and I’m getting things together so I can toy around with it a tad. It’s nothing too major, just enough to hold me over until my spark for photography comes back.”

“You have at least five hundred dollars’ worth of supplies there. That’s supposed to be toying around with a new idea?” Ryan sounded incredulous, walking over behind Gavin and kneeling down next to him. He picked up one of the cans of spray paint and looked over the label. It was an incredibly bright color, and honestly he couldn’t expect any different from Gavin so it really wasn’t a surprise.

“Well, I only know a general idea of what I want to do with all of it, and I didn’t know what I needed yet so I got a little carried away. I think the folks over at Fancy Nancy’s like me, though. They were going ga-ga over me the entire time I was there.” Gavin took the can of paint from Ryan as he spoke, examining the color before finding a space in the toolbox for that particular shade of green. Ryan snorted when Gavin mentioned the clerks and shelf-stockers over at Fancy Nancy’s.

“I mean, I talk about you a lot whenever I go in. They’ve started asking me how you’re doing whenever I’m in there now,” Ryan said, nonchalant as ever as he leaned to kiss Gavin on the top of the head. He heard a groan from the other side of the room, and when he looked up he saw Michael rolling his eyes as he headed into the kitchen.

“Get a room, you mushy fucks! You’re gonna screw up my appetite before I even get to make my goddamn lunch.”

“Oh sod off, you miserable prick. You’re just bitter that you haven’t gotten laid in like three months.”

“Yeah, because the last one in my pants was you, dickhead! And now you’re in  _ Ryan’s _ pants, and I’m stuck here without the fuckbuddy I had before, you selfish ass!”

“It’s not  _ my _ fault you haven’t found anyone else, and you know it!” Gavin huffed. He looked up at Ryan then, and the poor guy just looked confused. Ryan knew Michael was salty about a lot of things, but he had no idea about  _ that _ , even if it had been painfully obvious that they were involved with each other before. “Should I have not said that with you in the room too, Ryan?”

“No, I’m just concerned with how salty Michael is about it. I think you’re right. He  _ does _ need to get laid.”

_ “GODDAMMIT RYAN!” _ Michael could be heard shouting at the top of his lungs from the kitchen, and Jeremy poked his head of his studio for a moment before heading into the kitchen to see what the hell Michael’s damage was. Ryan had to sit down on the floor because he was laughing so hard, and he yanked Gavin down with him and into his lap. Gavin was giggling like a madman too, and after a few minutes taken to calm down, they were left leaning back against the couch, Gavin’s back against Ryan’s chest, and Ryan’s arms around Gavin’s waist.

“Okay seriously though, what the hell are you going to do with all that paint?” Ryan asked, almost abrupt. Gavin shrugged with a mischievous grin on his face.

“It’s a surprise, love. But I’m going to need to take some photos of you looking pretty. For science, of course.”

* * *

 

So it turned out that Gavin’s new hobby was graffiti. Not just tags and simple words, though. Gavin’s graffiti was intricate enough that the majority of police officers and city officials couldn’t bear to have it cleaned off or painted over. The works, using buildings and dumpsters and walls as canvases, were anywhere from gorgeous abstract displays of bright paint, to landscapes and pictures of people. They were all marked with a tag in bright, glimmering gold paint that read only the letters “GDF” in a brush-painted script.

But the most stunning work, done over the course of three nights while the citizens of Los Santos were left to wonder what was being painted, was a massive portrait on the wall of the city hall building. It was a picture of Ryan, ponytail his over his shoulder, smiling a warm, genuine smile. He had a crown painted above him, floating over his head. Beneath the bust portrait were the words, in gorgeous calligraphic letters: “My Sweet King.”

As soon as Ryan saw the portrait of himself painted on the city hall building, he turned beet red to the tops of his ears, and damn if he wasn’t glad he was wearing his mask at the time, because he’d never hear the end of it for being so simultaneously flattered, embarrassed, and unbelievably happy about the painting.

The rest of the Fakes figured it out anyways, and Gavin was proud as proud could be.


End file.
